Courage
by House4Cameron
Summary: An alternative ending to Role Model. “It’s…easier, when you’re there.” He admitted. Perhaps it was possible, that behind the façade of sarcasm and apathy, that House actually likes her. First attempted at writing. Chapter seven up.
1. The kiss

**Disclaimer: **Apparently you can't actually but a TV show with love alone, so…please don't sue?

**Authors Note: **Hi, this is my first attempt, ever, to write a fan fiction, so please, please be patient with me! I know this story is a little sloppy, but it was just a thought that I had to write down. This is the way I think the episode should have ended! I promise that I'm going to try and write much more structured fics that are not as bad as this. Thanks for any comments/suggestions, all help very much appreciated!

She stood in the middle of his living room, her eyes silently filling. The air was silent, and the hand that had been outstretched, waiting, expecting something, anything from him in response, fell back to her side. Was this it? She knew that it wouldn't be easy to convince him to open up. It wasn't easy to convince him to do anything. But nothing, no response or answer, was worse than nothing. She'd rather have him yell at her than stand there so stern and silent.

"There are only two ways I can deal with this" she started. "One of them is in my control, and that's to leave."

She couldn't believe she was doing this. She couldn't believe she was leaving. She couldn't believe he looked as if he didn't care. Surely he did? He must. She knew he found her attractive, that much was obvious. It was perhaps the only thing he was honest to her about. But more than mutual attraction was possible, wasn't it? Yet the more she thought about it, and the more that she saw he was looking everywhere but at her, made her feel that perhaps her efforts were in vain.

He couldn't believe she was doing this. He couldn't believe she was here, in his living room, right in front of him. This wasn't happening, it couldn't be. But he wouldn't admit anything to her, why should he have to? He had already told her that he found her attractive, why wasn't that enough for her? His feelings were his own, and for nobody else to have. If nobody had them, nobody could return them, but at least that meant nobody could reject them. Reject him. Why was she doing this? He shut down in front of her, desperately avoiding her big brown eyes that were sure to be sparkling with tears. It was like a child avoiding the look of their parents when they're telling them off for not tidying their room, or telling them they can't have a puppy for Christmas. He heard her hand fall and felt that perhaps that was it, it had worked, that now she'd give up, call a truce, and things could go back to normal in the morning. But then she spoke again to break the silence. She was leaving? No, she wouldn't. She couldn't. Could she? She was calling his bluff, see if he would fold and beg her to stay, but he wouldn't. He wasn't capable of that, even if he did have feelings for her. Did he just admit he had feelings for her? He wanted her to stay, that much he knew. Besides, she wasn't going to leave, not really. She loved the hospital too much, loved working there with Foreman and Chase. Not so much Chase, he hoped. But if this was all true, if he knew she wouldn't leave him, why was he feeling so panicked?

"Goodbye House." Her words were finale, concluding. Not really how she wanted to sound, but perhaps it was better this way. There was no sound of the desperation and longing she felt, but more overwhelmingly the defeat. She had tried countless ways to deal with the situation. She had fore mostly tried to ignore her crush, to ignore House, but that was near impossible. It was impossible for anyone to ignore House, especially if he wanted to be heard. Combined with the fact that she spent a good proportion of her day with him, her plan had obviously failed. She had tried admitting it to herself, and then to House, which was probably her worst attempt at solving the issue. Even so, she was fairly certain that things would be okay until they went out, on a non-date, to the monster truck rally. She had enjoyed that evening so much, not in a sloppy chick-flick kind of way that he probably thought she did, but just being in his company, seeing him have a good time instead of being miserable. She had even tried to become more assertive in a bid to trick to his feelings out of him. But now, after all of that, all the games and tactics, there were only two options left. She had made it clear that she needed something from him, any kind of acknowledgement, and that was in his control. Until he gave her that all she could do was leave. To avoid the source of whatever it was she was feeling.

She turned to leave, taking a few steps towards the door, and outstretched her arm. Her hand paused and hovered over the door handle as another thought crossed her mind. One other option. If she was leaving, if she was really serious about never seeing House again, then she really didn't have anything thing to lose, did she? Perhaps her dignity, if it ended badly, but who would ever know?

Her abrupt pause had gone unnoticed by him, he was so consumed with frustration that he didn't even look up until she turned and swiftly walked back up to him, resting her hands on his shoulders to balance herself as she stood on her toes. She paused, their faces only an inch apart for just a second, contemplating the devastatingly good or bad effect of what she was about to do was bound to have. In that instant, she decided she didn't care either way and gave in to temptation, she kissed him.

His free hand had instantly gone to hold her side, not out of pleasure, but to keep them both standing as she practically launched herself on him. To say that he was shocked would be an understatement. Stunned and speechless he had no idea how to respond to her. He knew what she was about to do, as soon as she had turned from the door, as soon as she had marched straight up to him and put her arms around him, he knew. His brain was trying too hard to convey and analyse all the things he was feeling. Contact this intimate with a woman, if even this subtle was a thing of the past for him. He missed it, but did not wish for the complications it brought. But the fact that it was Cameron but his mind in overdrive. Why was she doing this? She was on the verge of walking out on him, only to try this last-ditch attempt? Or was it something else? Was this really goodbye, the last attempt to rid the toxins from her body and move on? The million thoughts that were spiralling around in his brain were stopped dead in their tracks as she closed the space between them and kissed him. Silence fell. It was a release, absolute, and he couldn't, or didn't want, to figure out if it was instinct or will that made him kiss her back.


	2. Hurt

**A/N:** okay, so I don't know if this story has any potential, but I wanted to add a little more, hope you enjoy reading it because I had fun writing it!

**Disclaimer:** House belongs to all the people with big scary lawyers, not me. Unfortunately. Its very sad.

**HOUSE MD**

They stood like that, caught in the moment, for what seemed like forever, but what was, in reality, only seconds. He had begun to kiss her back, this was undeniably true, but it wasn't forceful or invasive, it wasn't even awkward, it was simply nice. Which made it all the more confusing for her when he broke the kiss and took several, very deliberate steps backwards, widening the space between them and returning his gaze to the floor.

The same silence that had only moments ago brought peace between them was now deafeningly unbearable. She tucked loose stands of hair behind her ear, now more self-conscious, and silently begged him to speak. To say something, say anything. To look at her. What was he thinking? Why wouldn't he look at her, talk to her? She was angry, and she was hurt. She wanted to scream 'I hate you!' and to hit him until she cried, then wait for his arms to fold around her. But she knew this would never happen, that she was romanticising the situation. She knew the person she really hated was herself. She could have told him at work. She could have just told Cuddy. She should have just focused on her work rather than indulging in her crush. She shouldn't of came here tonight, she shouldn't of kissed him, she shouldn't want to kiss him again. He didn't love her, it seemed he couldn't. Perhaps he was too screwed up to love anybody. But that didn't seem to matter any more. She had offered herself and been rejected. The feeling was worse than she had imagined it would be; devastatingly bad was now an understatement. All that was left for her was to collect the shattered pieces of her dignity and leave.

He could tell that she was tense when she kissed him, but he couldn't pinpoint his own emotions. He was both terrified of and grateful for the contact, yet it was in the instant he kissed her back (from will or instinct, he still could not decide), when he felt her relax, that he gathered all the strength in his body to pull away from her. Reason was screaming at him, telling him to avoid this woman, this moment, this thing. Reason told him all of this would lead to pain, told him to run away. He thought the running part was ironic, but got the message. This wasn't meant to happen. They didn't like each other; she was too young, too naive, looking to handle somebody else's pain instead of her own. He was a bitter old man, too arrogant, looking to inflict his pain on others instead of handling it himself. They would be a time bomb waiting to happen and he wasn't about to let one kiss, no matter how much he wanted it too, persuade him that anything other than a work relationship between them would lead to anything other than pain.

Once she felt capable of logical thought, of movement, she bent down to pick up the jacket she had carelessly dropped and turned towards the door. This time though, there was no hesitation; she needed to leave, to escape as far away as possible. She needed to be back in the safety of her own apartment, where she could cry out her frustration in privacy. She turned the handle and made her exit, and with the click of the lock, left House alone in silence.

He went to the kitchen and poured himself a drink. What had just happened? It didn't seem real, like it hadn't sunk in just yet. Not moments ago, one very attractive, young, female doctor was in his arms. Now, by choice, he was alone with a drink in his hand and a need for more vicodin than he could handle. There was something about his so-called logical choice to reject Cameron that seemed flawed on re-examination. He walked over to and sat on his couch, gulping down his drink and leaning back. Looking up to the ceiling, he wondered how he was going to fix this awful mess, if it even could be fixed. He didn't know what he wanted, but he knew for certain that this wasn't it.

She drove home as quickly as possible, and took the stairs to her apartment two at a time. She had no time to be concerned with anything except getting home. She took out her keys and walked in to her home, leaning back on the closed door behind her. Still carrying her coat and things, she let out a sob while thinking how dreadful this evening had turned out to be. She put her hand to her face, and then ran her fingers through her hair as she regained her composure. She decided this wasn't the first time, and wouldn't be the last time, that a man had been the cause of her pain, and so she wouldn't allow herself to cry, especially since that's what House would probably be expecting her to do. She hung her coat in her closet and set her keys on the table. She got changed. She washed her hair. She fed her cat. She started doing the washing up. She went about her precise routine in a robotic manner, trying desperately to avoid all and any thoughts of House. How he had appeared so cold towards her. How he had acted. She had kissed him, for god's sake! _He _had kissed _her_, and he wouldn't even look her in the eyes. He was a coward! She hated him; she hated his sarcasm and stubbornness. Hated the way that he would say and do outrageous things, just to play with her. The way he'd try to analyse her. They way he looked. His cologne. They way he kissed her. She began to cry, despite herself, into the dish she had been scrubbing for the past ten minuets.


	3. Pride

**Author's note:** firstly I'd like to say thank you for the reviews you have given, I am very grateful for them and I would love to read more! I wrote another short chapter for this story because I didn't want it to end the way it did, and I took into account the comments that I had written very little dialogue. I can only hope that I kept true to that characters and that you enjoy reading this!

**Disclaimer:** still don't own House, but it's on my Christmas list.

**HOUSE MD**

House sat on his chair behind the desk in his big glass office. If he had been in a better mood he would have made more of an effort to hide from the angry billionaire that was sure to have been looking for him all morning. But he didn't really care that much, which he thought odd. Yet his mind didn't have much time to mull this over since said angry billionaire strolled through his door and up to House's desk and waited for some kind of reaction from the rebellious doctor in front of him.

"Hi there, Ed." House said without lifting his head, and without much conviction.

"Edward."

"Fine Eddy, what can I do for you?"

"Resign." He was deadly serious, with a hint of hate in his voice.

"No thanks, I like it here."

"You have an extraordinary way of displaying it. You couldn't have expected to get away with that speech House. I'm giving you the opportunity to resign, I suggest you use it."

"For one critical speech? That's just plain mean." The sarcasm dropped from House's voice. "I've fired Cameron. We're even."

"You can either have the letter on my desk first thing Monday morning and leave with some dignity, or you can be fired from this hospital. Make your choice." And with that, the oversized bully exited the office and strolled away down the hall, leaving house to ponder his situation.

Vogler may not have believed him, but he was serious when he said he liked it here. Wilson was here, the one person he could stand to be around for long periods of time. He had a huge office, his own oddball team, and as much as Cuddy liked to banter with him, he pretty much had the run of the hospital. He was fully aware of how lucky he was, even if he failed to show it. He wasn't enjoying today very much at all, he had far too much to think about. The situation with Cameron, Vogler, and the case Forman had given him earlier; a pregnant woman, possible preeclampsia, but what actually turned out to be small cell lung cancer. He also had clinic duty, but he wasn't interested in dealing with that too, no matter what Cuddy said. He hated to admit the fact that he felt like something was missing. Cameron was good to have around, especially since she knew were the sugar was. He wished that the other night had gone better, he couldn't think of how they had got caught up like that, and how rationality and civil conversation were absent in both of them.

Hours later his mood was still no better. He had had to deal with Forman's accusations, his best friend losing his job, his patient dying, as well as his own imminent firing. He sat in his office silently with Wilson, waiting for the board meeting to end. But Wilson wasn't exactly one for long silences, and so decided to take his friends mind off the current problem to focus on another.

"Did you really fire Cameron?"

"What do you think?" Wilson made a face, so House continued. "She quit."

"Why?" Housed huffed at his friend's persistence.

"Coz' she had a crush on Cuddy." He said with an upbeat tone, rising from his seat and walking over to the window. "They had a night of crazy drunk sex, and Cameron just couldn't look at her in the same way again."

"If only that were true. The crush part I know is real, but it's not Cuddy. What did you say to her when she told you she was leaving?"

"Nothing. She said nothing, I said nothing, there was just a whole load of nothing."

"Okay, that just leaves the crazy drunk sex, which I'm guessing didn't happen?" House's unusual silent response intrigued Wilson, and he couldn't help but dig further.

"You didn't!" Wilson stated excitedly, waiting for a reaction.

"No, we didn't, you jackass."

"Then what?"

House sighed, and decided that it wouldn't do much harm to tell Wilson, especially since it was eating him alive thinking about it on his own.

"We, might of kissed. Briefly."

"Whoa! You did what?"

"It's not what you think."

"Really? Then what happened? You both fell onto each other's mouths?"

"No, it was, she…it doesn't matter because she's still leaving."

"Okay, she's only the second woman ever to show some genuine interest in you, and you're gonna let her leave, just like that, no fight, no nothing?"

Fortunately House was interrupted by the news that the board meeting had ended before he could reply. Wilson decided they should get a bottle of champagne, find cuddy and celebrate. House was grateful that he showed no sign of continuing their conversation, and so agreed. They headed off towards his office, and House decided that he would deal with the problem later, that Wilson was right; he would have to fight to convince Cameron to stay at the hospital.

She was alone in her apartment, reading. Or reading the same page of Pride & Prejudice over and over again. It was frustrating; she didn't like having nothing to do. She hadn't even spent much time at home before, there was always some tests or paperwork that needed to be done at the hospital. The quiet was going to drive her insane. At least it wouldn't last that long, she had a place at Jefferson, so she could soon dive into work and bury all her problems into the back of her mind, leave all thoughts of House behind. She'd miss foreman a lot, but they wouldn't be far apart. She could always visit.

Her ginger cat, which was currently curled up on the sofa opposite her, awoke suddenly and trotted off into the kitchen, breaking her thoughts. She didn't have to wait long to find out why when she heard a knocking at the door. She set down her book and walked over to the door, and looking through the peep hole, lowered her head and took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the conversation that was about to happen.

"What do you want?" house stood motionless as she opened her door.

"Can I come in?" He tried to look into her apartment.

"No." she stands firm, not revealing any of her emotions, of how she would let him in if he asked her again, and silently cursing herself for that weakness she had around him.

"Come back to work."

"No."

"Why not? Vogler's gone; things can go back to normal. You can come back."

"I can't. I've told you that already. Besides, I've already accepted a place somewhere else."

"Where?"

"Jefferson, with Yule."

"Unaccepted it."

"Why?" her voice was stern, she wanted him to suffer a little.

"Because Yule is boring. He's pedantic and peachy. Because he's short. Because I want you to come back."

"Why?"

"Because you're a good doctor."

"There are plenty of good doctors. Why do you want _me_ to come back?"

"I need you around." This talk was becoming more and more awkward for him, and she didn't miss this.

"Right, because I'm the artwork in your office. " House looks a little depleted as she answers. "You hurt me House." Her voice was quite.

"I know. I know the other night was less than great, but that doesn't mean you have to leave. Stay."

"What happened changes things, at least for me. Maybe it does for you too."

"It doesn't. I want you to come back to the hospital, Cameron, but I can't be with you."

"Can't or won't?" She was more confident having the upper hand of the conversation, and seeing as this might be the only chance she had, she wanted to press House.

"What do you want from me?"

"Honesty might be a start." She said flatly.

"Fine. You're attractive, you're smart and from what I could tell you're a good kisser." She cringed a little. "But you're also stubborn, naive and foolish. You came to my apartment to tell me you're leaving when you could have handed your resignation to Cuddy. You want me to want you and that's why you kissed me, and for a second I did what any sane man would do; I kissed you back. It was great, it was nice, but I didn't suddenly have an epiphany about my feelings for you and I didn't hear wedding bells. It doesn't change anything."

"Then why are you here? Just to tell me all this? If so, why don't you just replace me with some other attractive girl? I came over to your apartment because I thought you deserved to know why I was leaving. I'm left because I like you, and I kissed you for the same reason. You kissed me back because you like me. I didn't hold a gun to your head, and you knew exactly what I was doing but you didn't stop me. If you're too much of a coward to admit how you feel that's not my problem, but don't try to blame this all on me."

"If I'm the coward then why are you the one that's running away?"

"I'm not running away, I made a choice."

"The choice to run away? Doesn't sound very mature to me."

"And you're a spokesperson for maturity? How mature is it to belittle and insult everyone you know? To wall yourself off from people and hide your emotions?"

"You seem to find it an attractive quality!"

"Well perhaps I'm seeing things a little clearer now!"

"Fine, then just go to Jefferson!"

"Fine!" she slammed the door as House began to storm off down the hallway.


	4. Lovesick & Sulking

**Author's note:** Again, thank you for the reviews you have given, I'm glad people have taken the time to read my story, and I'm even more glad that people seem to like it. I apologise for the shortness of this chapter and the time it has taken me to write it, I'll try to be quicker next time. Thanks again & I hope you enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own House, simple as that.

**HOUSE MD**

"The choice to run away? Doesn't sound very mature to me." House said in defence, edging a little closer to her in the heat of the debate.

"And you're a spokesperson for maturity? How mature is it to belittle and insult everyone you know? To wall yourself off from people and hide your emotions?" Cameron replied, pointing her hand at him, as if to suggest that this whole argument was because of his immaturity.

"_You_ seem to find it an attractive quality!" he said, moving his hand to mirror her actions.

"Well perhaps I'm seeing things a little clearer now!" she moved closer, fury bubbling up inside of her.

"Fine, then why don't you just go to Jefferson!" he said in anger, matching her actions and moving closer towards her.

"Maybe I will!" she retorted in a lowered, but still angry tone.

"Fine!" House countered. They were only inches apart now.

"Fine!" she began to shout out, but in the instant she replied, he grabbed her face and pulled her into a passionate kiss.

House awoke from his dream with a jolt. Damn it. This wasn't happening. It was not possible that he had dreams about anyone, least of all, dreams about kissing his employees. About kissing Cameron. He hadn't gone to her home to fight, but he had gotten so caught up in frustration. He was making, or what in his books counted for, a grand gesture. He had asked her to come back to work. She had said 'No' first off, which he had anticipated, but throwing it all back in his face was more than a little stab to his pride. And the way that she presumed to know what he felt! She was so annoying! She was a beautiful woman who had thrown herself onto him. In kissing her back he had only done what any man with a pulse would have done, it meant nothing. Right? Okay, so he might have enjoyed kissing her, but that was expected; he's still human after all. And a coward, he laughed to himself. _Him_, a coward? He'd been called a few things in his time, and admitted to being a lot more, but a coward wasn't one of them. After all, _she _was the one running away just because she couldn't get her own way. She always had to be so damned stubborn. She should be at the hospital, where she belonged. How could she leave him with a depleted team? Chase's coffee was terrible, especially since he was only making it to try, pathetically, to make up for being a traitor. Foreman was no better, still blaming him for Cameron's departure. Okay, so he was the reason she left, but that didn't make it his fault. If that wasn't enough, he had Cuddy constantly badgering him about clinic duty and hiring somebody new. Wilson might have been the only one he could actually stand being around if he didn't act like a giddy schoolgirl with a secret every time he saw him. He sighed, and decided to admit, even if it was only to himself, that he actually missed having Cameron around, despite the fact that she drove him crazy. He had to find away to fix this.

She awoke with a pounding headache and one ginger cat curled up at her feet. Rubbing her head and grabbing her night coat that hung on the door, she headed to the bathroom and began searing for aspirin. Finding it, she closed the cupboard door and paused to look at her reflection in the mirror. She looked terrible. She had bags under her eyes from a long night lacking in sleep, and her hair was messed up. She blamed House. What a nerve he had to come over to her home and just expect her to forgive him and come running back, like he was making some grand gesture. Okay, being House it was probably hard for him to even ask her to come back, but he hadn't offered her a real reason, he had just hidden behind his wit and cynicism, again. And then to accuse her of running away! He'd been such a coward, hardly even taking responsibility for kissing her. He just drove her so crazy! The tone of his sarcastic voice, and those stupid little faces he would pull in an argument. The way he'd crinkle up his forehead. All right, so on occasion, it made her laugh; it was kind of cute in a way. Cute, but annoying, very annoying. Especially since she was the one he was trying to argue with. 'Trying' being the operative word: he'd stormed off like a spoilt child when she wouldn't give in to him. She walked down to the kitchen and thought to herself that last night might have been the last time she would see House, and that now she would go to Jefferson and move on with her life. But why did that leave her with a twinge of sadness, knowing she probably wasn't going to see him again? It had to be because of the argument. He drove her crazy, but she would hate for them to finish on bad terms, even if he was acting like a child about it. She would have to find a way to fix this.

Wilson walked into House's office at about noon, and proceeded to sink down in the chair opposite his friend, who was slumped in concentration playing his game. House lifted his eyes momentarily to view his silent companion before speaking.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Considering your general behaviour, I figured it would be more productive if I _didn't_ have an appointment."

"Ouch. That hurt. Why are you here?" House replied, still playing his game.

"Can't I visit my lovesick friend without have an underlying reason?" Wilson's question was followed, almost instantly, by the beeping & buzzing of his friend's on screen counterpart dying a nasty death.

"I'm not lovesick" Was House's frustrated reply, closing the toy and dropping it on the table.

"Like hell you're not. Why else have you been sulking in your office these past few days?"

"I'm not sulking!" The high-pitched and over exaggerated tone of his buddy's voice made Wilson chuckle.

"Right. Avoiding work, hiding from Cuddy, refusing to hire anybody; this isn't you sulking at all." There was a brief pause as House rolled his eyes. Wilson decided that his friend needed a not-so-gentle shove in the right direction.

"Talk to her." He said sincerely.

"Been there, done that. She doesn't want to come back."

"That's crap, she loves working here. What she doesn't love is to having to put up with you, which is understandable. So if you really want Cameron to come back you're going to have to swallow your pride just this once and _tell her_." Wilson continued talking as he got up & walked to the door. "If not, getting over it is a good choice too because your melancholy mood is scaring the interns."


	5. Negotiations

**A/N: **Again, apologies for a not-so long or very exciting chapter, but hope you like it all the same. Many thanks for kind reviews!

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own House MD, but i'm working on it.

**HOUSE MD**

She stood nervously outside his door. Nervous, but prepared. She looked reasonably good, she stood well, and had this all planned out in her head. She would make it clear she was still leaving, but would appologise for fighting with him andthenleave with a clear conscience. No bickering, nobetrayingany emotion, no getting hurt. She took a beath of the night air and knocked on the door in front of her. Yet as soon as his gaze met hers she could barely even remember how to spell 'plan'.

He opened the door wide enough for her to enter his home for the second time. He tried to register his emotions. The bitter aftertaste from their previous fight still remained, but he was glad to see her. He wished a little that it wasn't in his home, that he wasn't so vulnerable to inspection, but most of all he was tired. He didn't feel like fighting with Cameron. He really wanted nothing more than to just bury the events of the past few days into his subconscious and go back to a less complicated existence.

She was anxious; she couldn't really gage his mood towards her. She felt like it was indifference, but hoped it wasn't. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea, maybe he had really meant what he had said; maybe he hadn't expected to see her again, or at least for a long time. Perhaps he had, but wasn't relieved to see her. No, that couldn't be it, could it?

He closed the door and walked back to the centre of the room, trying to think of a conversation starter. He hated formalities. He decided instead to pour himself a drink and wait for her to speak. She let out a soft sigh at seeing him start to procrastinate and figured he was waiting for her to make the first move.

"I'm sorry," she began finally. "I didn't plan to argue with you the other day. I hadn't planned on seeing you at all."

"You thought I'd just let you leave." It was more of a statement than a question, but she answered anyway.

"Well, yes. I thought you made it clear that you wantedme to just go to Jefferson."

"I said that because we were in a heated debate." He glared at her.

"In an argument" She corrected. There was a brief pause.

"So it doesn't work when you try to leave, and it doesn't work when I try to stop you. Perhaps we need a different solution." House replied in a dismissive tone, finishing his drink and setting the class on a table.

"Such as?" She was cautious but willing to engagewith himif it meant that they weren't fighting.

"Well, I'mprepared to forget the whole event and have things go back to the way they were."

"The way they were was kind of weird." She admitted light-heartedly.

"Weird, works for me" his response was playful, but she felt herself slipping slightly; becoming more comfortable in his company. She needed to remind herself she was leaving. She needed to remind him.

"And I work for Yule." Her unusually drab remark had thrown him, but only a little.

"Why are you here?" he asked sternly.

"I…didn't want us to finish on bad terms." she replied, a little taken aback by his tone.

"The fact that you left puts us immediately on bad terms. You want us to be okay? Come back." He was frustrated, and getting angrier.

"I can't." she couldn't believe they were drifting into another argument.

"Why, because I'm so terrible to be around? Because you're so infatuated that you can't be in the same room as me? If that were true you wouldn't be here tonight." He walked closer to her. "So what's really keeping you from coming back? Are you holding out for a better deal? You want more money, better parking space? Or are you just looking to make attachments with all specialist doctors in the county and then leave them hanging dry?"

She turned to make her way to the door; she didn't need this. She came over her to apologise, despite not being the person who actually needed to apologise, and this is the way he acts towards her. He is abrasive and rude and everything she is glad to be leaving behind. And if she could only really make herself believe that then leaving wouldn't be half as hard.

"Wait." House's hand reached out to grab her as she turned, stopping her from leaving.

She paused, and turned a little more towards him, but still not facing him fully. His move was unexpected, and his firm grip on her arm was more than enough to make her heart skip a little faster, however clichéd it was.

"Stay." His tone was deadly sincere, and he kept her gaze. "Please."

She felt her anger melt, and knew that she couldn't refuse him. He had finally shown something to her, even if it wasn't really in words. But she wanted more than that. She didn't want this to be the only time she got any emotion out of him. She was taking a risk in asking for more, he might refuse, but she felt the odds were in her favour.

The silence was terrifying, not that he was letting it show. What was she thinking? Why didn't she answer him? This was a bad idea, he shouldn't have said anything, should have let her leave. God, he was turning soft. Perhaps Wilson was right; perhaps she had rubbed off on him. He kept her gaze, waiting patiently for her to either accept, or reject him.

"Dinner." She answered finally, throwing him for the second time. He let go of her arm, missing the warmth slightly, and painted a confused expression on his face, leading her to elaborate.

"Dinner. My terms of re-employment. And not just a meal between two colleagues. _A date_."

"You'll come back to work if I'll go out on a date with you?"

"Yes."

"Okay." He answered like it was nothing; as if it was something he did every weekend. She smiled, and the tension of the moment eased only a little, preceding a comfortable pause.

"I should go if I'm going to get up for work in the morning."

"Work, right. Don't be late." he teased.

"I won't." she responded. He walked forward and opened the door for her, an unusual end to an unusual conversation. Her brain was racing to catch up with everything that had just happened, everything they, everything she, had said. Hadn't she just blackmailed him into a date? Panic filled her as she reached the door, this wasn't her intention; she didn't want to force him into this. Although a date is what she has wanted, maybe he'd be even more closed off towards her if he felt obliged to go. She should tell him it was okay to call it off, that she'd come back to work anyway even if he said 'No' to the date.

"House…"

He shuffled awkwardly and sighed at seeing her mind go in to overdrive. He decided to settle her nerves a little.

"It's late. Stop thinking. Go home." He smiled. It worked; she smiled back, reassured, and he closed the door behind her as she left. Now all he had to do was reassure himself.


	6. Reservations

**A/N:** okay, writing 'the date' scene is harder than I imagined, so hopefully this chapter will do until I finish it. Apologies up front for the amount of dialogue lifted from the show. Any comments or ideas on how the date should go are very welcome!

**Disclaimer:** House doesn't belong to me, Cameron doesn't belong to me, I don't even own Wilson. Reality bites.

**HOUSE MD**

"So she's coming back?" Wilson asked curiously. He sat opposite House in his office, keeping him company while he hid from Cuddy and clinic duty.

"What made her change her mind? I mean, it couldn't have been because she likes you."

House, who was currently absent-mindedly twirling his cane, lifted his eyes to meet Wilson's gaze. It was only seconds before the wheels in the oncologist's mind started spinning dangerously fast.

"Wait a second, she did come back because likes you!" a huge grin was plastered on Wilson's face that made House regret his choice of friend.

"I've agreed to take her on one date, that's it, no biggie."

"So you do like her! I can't believe-"

"I don't like her!" House interrupted, rolling his eyes at Wilson's confused expression. "She's not giving me any choice."

"What, did the sweet, gentle, immunologist bully you into dinner?" Wilson chuckled.

"For god's sake grow up. You're like a woman, get out of my office before I throw something heavy in your direction." Wilson rises and makes towards the door.

"Fine, I think I'll go have a nice chat with Cuddy; tell her where you are."

"Traitor." House yelled as he reached the hallway.

"Coward." Wilson retorted, laughing as he carried on with his journey.

Forman and Chase were sitting in the briefing room, idly playing ball when Cameron walked in and caught it. It was good to see them, and fun to see their shock.

"Hey!" Foreman said, giving her a hug.

"What are you doing here?" Chase asked, curious, but glad to see her. It was always a little easier to deal with House if Cameron was here to distract him.

"I work here." She said playfully. "House practically begged me to come back."

"_Pease_ tell me you took him to the cleaners!" Foreman joked.

"Same lousy salary." She replied, glad that she could slip back into the banter that existed between them so easily.

"Then why'd you do it?" Chase asked.

"Because this" House motioned as he walked through the door with Wilson, interrupting them "is obviously the happiest place on Earth." He glanced at Cameron as he breezed past her, causing her to tense a little. Why did he have that effect on her? More to her annoyance, why did she have no apparent affect on him? She stood straighter, trying to not let it show. She was confident in her guess about the CT scan, and, at the end of their meeting, was prepared to go about her routine as normal when House made a jibe about keeping the _'perks'_ of her new contract secret.

"What perks?" Chase inquired as soon as they exited the office and entered the hallway.

"Nothing you'd be interested in." she replied, a little angry at House's request. Foreman always looked out for her, and she got on well enough with Chase; she didn't see any reason to keep them in the dark just save House's pride. Besides, it would be priceless to see their reaction, and to annoy House for a change.

"Office space, insurance, parking- anything he could offer you, we'd be interested in."

"He agreed to take me on a date." She announced smugly, witnessing the shocked looks pass between them. Foreman was the first to regain the powers of speech.

"A date? Date; dinner and a movie, naked and sweaty date?"

"He only committed to the first two." The hint of disappointment in her voice forced Chase to be extremely grossed out.

"But he's so, old!"

"And you're so young." She countered with a flirtatious glint in her eyes.

"This is a big mistake" Foreman interjected, slightly concerned for his friend.

"It's my boss" she shrugged coyly, "I'm allowed to sexually harass my boss. I'll arrange for the EMG, Chase you want to set up the angiogram, and Foreman you get the blood samples, patient history, patient consent?"

Foreman just shook his head while Chase worked on picking his jaw up from the floor. They loved working with Cameron, and they were glad she was back, but what she saw in their boss they would never really get. Chase especially. Foreman figured, like House, that she wanted to bring out the hidden goodness in him. Either way, both agreed that it was like watching an accident about to happen.

Some hours later, the group stood in the hallway discussing their case. They came to the decision of what to do next, and as Foreman and Chase wondered down the hall to attend to their duties, Cameron stayed in her spot and plucked up the courage to talk to House about the 'perks' of her contract.

"About tomorrow night."

"You couldn't keep your mouth shut." He said coldly. It gave her a little pleasure to know that she had gotten under his skin, it was a rare twist of fate, but she stored the moment and moved on.

"I didn't see any reason to. Where are we going? I want to make sure I dress appropriately." She followed him as he walked towards his office; she wasn't about to let him get off that easy.

"That would be army boots and t-shirt. It's the county paintball tourney. First prize is fifty bucks; I'll split it with you if you hold your end up." He was mocking her, or at least she hoped he was joking. Paint balling had its advantages, but there was no way he could take her there for a date. But she wanted to make sure; it was impossible to predict what obstacles House would throw at her.

"I'm not sure if that was the deal." She remarked.

"Relax. I made a reservation at Café Spiletto." He paused as he opened the glass door leading to his office. "Regarding wardrobe: are you too young to remember spandex?"

"I'm sure I'll figure something out." She replied casually as he gave a nod and disappeared into his office. Why was he being so cagey? He had agreed to the date after all. Perhaps he was having second thoughts. But if that were true he wouldn't have made reservations, especially not at café Spiletto. If she thought about it for too long it made her head hurt. He sent so many and so few signals that it was hopeless to try and estimate his emotions. If she didn't have a patient to deal with, she would have followed him into his office and tried to probe some more answers out of him. But, she was busy, so the enigma of Greg House would have to wait until this evening.

Apparently though, Wilson couldn't wait. He found Cameron some time later doing paper work, and entered the office.

"Hi, are you, uh, can we talk?" he asked awkwardly.

"Gee, I wonder what this is going to be about." She replied, getting up to put a file away.

"I just want to make sure nobody gets hurt." He said, almost apologetically.

"I will be fine. Everybody is acting like I'm going out with Jack the Ripper."

"Oh its, its not you I'm worried about." Cameron turned to look at him, thoroughly confused by his admission. Wilson tried to explain his concern.

"It's been a long time since he opened up to someone, and I…you'd better be absolutely sure you want this, because if he opens up again and gets hurt, I don't think there's going to be a next time."

"You're worried I'm going to break _his_ heart?" she asked, not needing an answer but trying to make sense of what had just been said.

Wilson was House's best friend, so concern for him was natural. But had he really felt this strongly? He had felt the need to speak to her about it, and she couldn't help but wonder what else that meant. The fact the Wilson thought there was a chance that House might open up to Cameron was puzzling, and the fact he thought there was a chance she had the power or influence over House to abuse such a trust was even more so. The chance she might hurt him. The chance she might reject his feelings? Perhaps it was possible, that behind the façade of sarcasm and apathy, that House actually liked her. House likes her. She knew she was leaping a gap the size of the Grand Canyon to come to that conclusion, but the words gave her comfort, and tomorrow night became that much more appealing.


	7. The Date

**A/N:** I really love all the reviews; they help a lot when writing, so please write more! In this chapter I try to make up in length what I lack in talent, so please forgive the general 'out-of-character' ness and such, and I'd be eternal grateful!

**Disclaimer:** House, still, does not belong to me. It's so_depressing._

"This is pointless" House said as he tried, and failed, to fix his tie correctly. "I should cancel; I have a patient in surgery tomorrow."

"And if you were a surgeon that might actually matter." Wilson said, lazing on House's sofa.

"I don't know how to have casual conversation. She'll be expecting casual conversation." House finished his tie, and continued to check his outfit.

Wilson inwardly chuckled at his friend and decided to give him some calming advice. "Open doors for her, help her with her chair-"

"I have been on a date." House interrupted.

"Uh, not since disco died." Wilson retorted. "Comment on her shoes, her earrings, and then move on to D.H.A." Wilson caught the look House threw him and continued to explain. "Her dreams, hopes and aspirations. Trust me. Panty-peeler. Oh, and if you need condoms, I've got some."

"Did your wife give them to you?" Was House's bitter reply, which was completely wasted on Wilson, who was more than used to his friend's comments. "Drug rep. They've got antibiotics built in, somehow."

House wondered over to, and opened, his fridge, peering inside. Wilson saw this and figured he was getting a drink.

"Good idea; settle your nerves. Get me a beer too." He said as he rose from his seat and moved closer.

"No beer."

"You're going to eat before dinner?"

House stared at the little plastic box on the shelf. A corsage. He had actually bought a corsage. For Cameron. He'd bought Cameron a corsage. He repeated the phrase but it still didn't make any sense to him. He didn't like her. There was only a physical attraction there, right? He was going on the date to satisfy her whim in order to get her to come back to work. The problem was; he couldn't figure out who had 'won' between them. He had gotten her to come back, but she had gotten him to date her. To take her on one date, he corrected himself. Either way, it was a terrible idea. It was going to end horribly. It would probably start horribly. He was just grateful that in the middle they would be too preoccupied with eating to care for small talk. Small talk. What on Earth was he doing? The girl he was about to take out was half his age, naïve and stubbornly believed that there was something between them, and he had bought her a corsage- he was adding fuel to an already fierce fire. Perhaps that's what he wanted to do. Maybe, some part of him, a very small, very hidden part of him, wanted to see if he could do it again. To see if he could care for somebody and have them care back. But this wasn't a game. It was Dr Alison Cameron; he was toying with her emotions. This was such a bad idea.

"This," he said, pulling out the delicate flower and waving it in Wilson's face, "this is pretty lame, right?"

Wilson smiled. "I think she like lame."

Okay, she was ready. She stood in front of her mirror and checked her outfit, tracing her hands over her long dress, ironing out creases that weren't there. Everything was fine. Her hair shined healthily and fell neatly onto her shoulders. Her makeup, jewelry, shoes, purse; everything had been prepared, checked and checked again. She had finished leftover paperwork, fed her cat and cleaned the apartment. Twice. And yet, her hands were still shaking for something to do. She was either very nervous or suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder. She thought it would be easier to admit to the latter. Was she doing the right thing? This really wasn't going to go well. Forcing House to date her would probably have the same result as forcing a fierce animal into a tight corner. Except Greg House had sharper fangs than any animal she could think of. The phrase 'Be careful what you wish for' crept across her thoughts. But wait, she was getting way ahead of herself; the date hadn't even started and she was already having fears. Besides, House likes her, she likes House. They were just two mature adults sharing a quiet meal. As long as he left his pessimism at the door, and she didn't try to probe too much out of him, the evening should be quite pleasant. Nevertheless, the urge to ask those nagging questions was intense. After all, this may be her only chance to really talk to him, to find out if he would ever express anything other that sarcasm to her. To find out if they'd ever get past the first, mandatory, date. She chuckled a little. She'd be a fool to get her hopes up that much, but she wouldn't accept anything less than an honest answer about his feelings for her. That much she deserved.

He arrived at the restaurant on time, which was more than he could say about her. Where _was_ that woman? He absent-mindedly played with the cutlery and watched the other people enjoying their evening; two new parents fussing over their daughter, an old couple holding hands, a young couple sharing smiles and a group of woman toasting. He was so enthralled by imagining these other people's lives that he hardly even noticed Cameron walking over to the table.

"Hi." She said as he finally caught the movement in the corner of his eye.

"Hi." It was all he could muster back as she sat down opposite him. He would have come up with a glib remark about being fashionably late, but he had to admit that he was far too distracted watching her.

"I see you decided to turn up then. I was worried I might have to call in a substitute date. Such late notice would've caused the price to rocket." His brain finally kicked in to gear. Not his greatest line, but a line at least.

"I assume that to date you the price would already have to be sky-high."

"What can I say? I'm a diva." She giggled and he observed her; she was sparkling. She wore a dress that he felt obviously served a purpose, and it served it well; she seemed to be glowing, smiling at nothing in particular. Especially when she caught his gaze and he looked away.

"I've always loved this restaurant." She said, looking directly at him.

"Yeah. It's changed a lot since I was here last. Used to be a strip joint."

She laughed again. Her laughter, he felt, eased the tension enough for him to embark on his next move. Not that it was a 'move' on her, per se, it was just an action which needed to be done as quickly as possible to avoid yet more tension; like pulling off a band-aid. He took the plastic box that contained the corsage out from its hiding place in his lap and slid it across the table.

"This is for you." He said flatly, hoping she'd take the hint and not make a fuss. She saw his expression and felt it kinder not to make a big deal out of it, even though she wanted to. She took it out of the container and fixed it to her dress.

"It's beautiful. Thank you." She smiled. She looked at him, wriggling under the discomfort. He looked good in his suit. But then he looked good in his casual uniform too. She felt she'd probably still find him attractive no matter what he wore. Even in his lab coat. Especially in his lab coat. She chuckled at the thought.

"You look very handsome." She ventured.

"Thank you. Nice earrings." He tried.

"My mom's, thanks."

"Nice shoes. Comfortable?"

"Not really. Yours?" she played along, realizing his discomfort.

"Always."

She smiled. "You know, I'm not expecting you to be somebody you're not."

"We're in a restaurant, we're dressed up." He paused and shuffled. "If not small talk what else is there?"

"Lots." She said in earnest. She was highly amused at the role reversal between them, her being the more confident one. However, she was also aware of the risks that it bought; if he felt too out of his depth he might bolt. She decided that humor might be the best-chosen language in order to get him to relax a little. "And you can't really blame me for the context; you picked this place. I would have gone paint-balling."

"Liar." He said, looking up from the menu to gaze at her.

"I guess you'll never know." she leaned in and smiled. She could have been mistaken, but she thought she won a glimmer of a smile from him, if it only was for a second.

He was amused by her behavior. Obviously she was enjoying this, and felt far too confident. He would have to squash that nasty aspect and take charge of their evening.

"So what's your cat's name?"

"What?" House's question threw her a bit, which was its purpose.

"You have a scratch, on your arm." He explained. "You didn't do it at work and I figure you're not that clumsy at home, so you either have a cat or you got into a jealous brawl with a girlfriend. _Please_ tell me it was the latter; I'd so love to hear details."

How did he always know everything? It was so frustrating. She could lie, just to watch his reaction. She grinned; perhaps he was rubbing off on her.

"Tibet." She admitted.

"Seriously?" he wrinkled his forehead.

She gave a disapproving smirk that tried to hide the fact she was also amused by the name. "My neighbor." She began to clarify. "She moved and couldn't have any pets in her new apartment. I offered to take him in, she accepted."

"How touching." He mocked.

She frowned. "I find it hard to believe you never had a pet as a child."

"Right. I'm all soft and gooey on the inside."

"Yes, technically." She paused and looked away. Small talk was fine; in fact it was a nice change. But she reminded herself that this, unfortunately, was probably the only chance she was going to have to get any answers from him. At the risk of it backfiring on her in so many ways, she decided to focus their rather odd conversation.

"Why are you here?" she asked.

"I'm hungry?" he replied, sensing the unwanted change of topic.

She gave an frustrated glare. "It would have been so much simpler to just hire somebody new, but you fought to get me back. Why?"

"I don't like change." He said, still reading the menu.

"Is that it? There's no other reason?"

"You're a good doctor." He shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

"But there are better doctors. Prettier doctors too," she rolled her eyes, "so why me? I deserve a real reason, don't I?"

He sighed. Their conversation was heading in exactly the direction he knew it eventually would, but had hoped wouldn't.

"It's…easier, when you're there." He admitted. It was all he was going to admit to, at least right now. A major part of that was because he really couldn't decide how he felt about Cameron. Okay, sure, he was attracted to her, hence the kissing. But there was something, several things actually, holding him back. There was the most obvious, the reluctance to open up to anybody for fear of yet more pain. But then there was curiosity: why did she like him? Even she had declared that he was, on occasion, 'abrasive and rude', so why did she insist on pursuing him? There was an explanation for this, nagging in the back of his mind, letting him know that he was just the next charity case in her life. The theory managed to overpopulate most of his thoughts, squashing any delusions he conceives about happily-ever-after with Cameron, with anyone.

"If you like me being there so much why do you make it so difficult?" she asked, completely dumbfounded by his limited response, but at the same time grateful that he didn't bat the question away with sarcasm.

"I make it difficult for everyone, it's just the way I am." He said quietly.

"That's not true. You make it especially difficult for me, emotionally."

"Why?" he huffed in frustration, fed up with attempting to tiptoe around the issue. "Because I won't play kiss and chase? You're the one that makes it difficult for yourself."

"Wrong again; from my experience you're more than willing to play kiss and chase, just not that willing to admit that there are any feeling behind the game."

"Because there aren't any."

"Liar" she retorted.

However, House was silenced from making his response when the waiter arrived at their table, pausing expectantly and smiling.

"Can I take you're order?" he asked graciously. He continued to grin, apparently oblivious to the tension between his two customers. He wore a smart black and white uniform with a horrid bowtie. It reminded House too much of an old fashioned suit that made people look far too comparable to fat penguins. This, combined with the waiter's sickeningly cheery disposition, thoroughly annoyed House and warranted, in his opinion, not only a death-glare, but also an unlimited supply of belittling and sarcastic remarks. However, as soon as the waiter left their table, cheery mood systematically lessened, Cameron shot House her own death-glare and decided to voice her disapproval.

"You know he's going to put a heap of pepper on our food now, right?"

"I _like _pepper." House replied in that unconcerned voice he so often used.

"I _don't_." she mimicked him. "What you did was completely unnecessary and rude."

"Are you kidding?" he said, contorting his features. "I didn't say anything you weren't thinking."

"I wasn't thinking any one of those things you said."

"Really?" He asked in exaggerated disbelief.

"Yes."

"Not one?" He appeared genuinely disappointed.

"Nope."

"But they were funny?" She rolled her eyes at his behavior, but the smile on her lips let him know he was forgiven. Not that he needed her forgiveness, of course, but it gave him a happy smug feeling, like he'd gotten any with something much worse; dodged a bullet, to steal Foreman's wording.

House leaned back in his chair, content that they had gotten over the most awkward part of the evening, and more relaxed now that he had blown off some steam on the waiter. Cameron looked more relaxed too, leaning forward on the table, glancing around the restaurant at the same people he had focused on earlier. He figured that tonight was not the night to get into a fight with the person he had fought to keep by his side. Besides, he had plenty to be grateful for; Vogler was gone, Cameron was back and Chase was in grovel mode. For this evening at least, previous quarrels would be buried, and they could just enjoy each other's company.


End file.
